MANY INJURED
Then came the long row of stretchers with their inert occupants. Every man was alive, but in many cases that was all. In spite of arms and legs broken in the grinding of wreckage, many of these cripples had remained afloat long enough to be seen and gathered in.
Every one of the invalids was rushed in a special ambulance to the Jeffrey Hale Hospital, while the slightly injured were allotted to quarters in the Chateau Frontenac.
Touching in its pathos was the contingent of third-class passengers. In little groups they huddled about the stateroom of the ferry, gazing at each other in dumb thankfulness, and rarely expressing a syllable. There were nine Russians and two Poles bound for their homeland. In the hour of peril they had leaped from the reeling decks, in many instances grasping to the end the little carpet and bandana bundles which represented all their worldly effects.